


May Truth Shine Through

by BleedingCoffee



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, I offer penance in the form of porn, Michael climbs maslow's pyramid to pikes peak of self actualization, Only One Bed, StarfleetSims and RPF fanfic are a thing on this ship, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, first fic in this fandom and the ST univerise is intimidating as hell, im a tag rambler and i am not sorry, made up aliens and shitpost science, spy eye parasites used in a non graphic plot device way, you know what you're in for when you click the proceed button
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28839663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingCoffee/pseuds/BleedingCoffee
Summary: Some truth-loving aliens, a bottle of questionable beverage and only one bed.   Just what Pike and Bernham need, apparently.
Relationships: Michael Burnham/Christopher Pike
Comments: 12
Kudos: 48





	May Truth Shine Through

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alethia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/gifts).



> My first fic for this incredibly intimidating series, and I truly did not try to keep it short or admonish myself for my ridiculous headcanons. ( Pike telling Tilly "Hey, we can marry some people and let them figure it out" made me have flashbacks to playing Sims and thus StarfleetSims are now an app on everyone's tablet.) I am sorry, there is porn in here to apologize for me being me.
> 
> The eye worms are used in a joking manner, for a plot device and are also pure shitpost science. This is unbetaed, and autocorrect is the devil.
> 
> This is a gift fic for Alethia whose works were just what I needed to get away from this weird ass world we're living in for a little bit. I apologize that this isn't quite a trope, it's not really short, and I'm sure there's a bunch of wrong Trek facts in this. I just wanted to write some smut and suddenly 15k words happened. It always does, no idea why I'm shocked.

“We are honored that you are extending us an audience to be heard...” Pike said and was immediately talked over by the representative from the Veritian people. He smiled and waited as the chatty, pale blue skinned, alien waved his arm prompting the Priestess to bring forth a bottle. He looked to Burnham and quirked an eyebrow, silently asking if this meant the guy was thirsty or if they were about to do shots and open up a two way conversation.

Michael remained stoic by her captain’s side, doing her best to stay focused on the massive hall they were in and the altar they were standing in front of. Pike, as always, was distracting her, but not for his looks and charisma _this time_. This time he was showing once again why he was ‘Captain Perfect’, one of the more tame nicknames Tilly had for him, by showing his patience. A lesser man would have been offended by how often the Veritian representative interrupted him. A lesser man would have allowed his irritation to show; no matter how much she had preached about this race of people valuing honesty and truth; being rude was the easiest way to expose someone’s true nature. Pike passed with flying colors. No surprise.

“I extend to you, Captain Pike, a sample of our culture, before I escort you to speak with the high council.” The Veritian bowed as the Priestess presented the bottle.

Michael was still distracted by Pike and before she knew it, the bottle was already on the table. Something felt _off_. Pike was still waiting for an answer about what was in the bottle and was it good/bad or safe. His trust in her put more pressure on and she was overwhelmed by how much she did not know about these people. This feeling that something wasn’t right made it worse. Feelings were once something she had repressed and now this Captain had started to erode that lifetime of practice. Feelings, personal attraction and professional awe, clouded her judgment these days. She looked at the bottle and could not read the writing or recognize the drink. This, in any other circumstance, would be a thrilling interaction for a xenoanthropologist, but as Captain Pike’s escort--she was apprehensive. His life was in her hands, and hers alone, as the Veritian only allowed two of them into the temple. 

“Is that tequila?” Pike asked, seeing a worm in the bottom of the bottle. He looked up as the Veritian representative finally stopped talking over him and actually interacted with him. That could be good or bad. 

“You are familiar with the larva?”

Pike smiled. Oh, he definitely was _not_ familiar with this one. However, he had to buy Burnham time as she was struggling with her assessment. “Back home, we have a drink called mezcal that has a larva in it that’s said to enhance the flavor but also indicates you're in for a stronger drink than you thought. Eating the worm is kinda a rite of passage.”

It was the first time the Veritian greeter allowed Pike to talk uninterrupted. It worried her. It worried her more that Pike was dropping the diplomatic tone and going with a friendlier one. These Veritians made it very clear they felt superior, for her captain to start acting like he was walking up to a bar and asking for his favorite local concoction was giving them even higher ground. He was making the sacrifice because he was _waiting on her_ to do her job and show their intelligence by illustrating how much they knew about what was contained within the bottle. She had to start thinking.

“I’m sure my local drinks are different than yours, although the custom of opening discussions with a drink is certainly familiar territory.” Pike replied and gave him a smile that said ‘we’re well travelled, not my first rodeo’ then glanced to Burnham to check up on her. Her eyes were everywhere but looking at him. Shifting from altar, to bottle, to the ceremonial dress of the priestess--- trying to quickly compile data to see what the hell they just walked into without their weapons or communicators. 

Her captain got his foot in the door and was going to keep going, a good diplomat and a smooth conversationalist. The question was, why did the Veritian _stop_ talking? A single glass was presented and the bottle opened. She let her eyes search everything in front of her without moving her body, looking for anything that would indicate what kind of ritual she was dealing with before Starfleet’s finest was poisoned or drugged by an unknown drink. She had been so excited to come down here, as a scientist, and then it got overwhelming when she realized Pike intended to accompany her. “Sir, might I remind you that before we can partake in drinks with previously uncontacted species we must analyze the contents to make sure it will not interact poorly with our systems, per regulations.”

Pike watched the drink being poured and looked over at her as the emissary remained silent. A babbling one person welcoming committee suddenly taking a vow of silence when pouring drinks was either an indication he was walking into a trap or he valued the drink more than he valued talking down to visitors. Either was a plausible option. “When we set our equipment down outside the temple, we agreed to go on a little faith to show we came with good intentions."

It was a reminder of her advice and also the enigma that was Christopher Pike. He was a man of faith and he had some reverence for a religious building that wasn’t even his own. Above all he put his faith in her, not God, to steer him correctly here to avoid insulting these people, to avoid drinking something that could kill him. She had to stop thinking about Pike and more about this temple! She had seen overlap in architecture and dress with other species on file, mannerisms and conversation points that reassured her that this species were similar to their neighbors in having a culture based around truth. She had immense faith in her captain to be the shining beacon of truth that these people would appreciate and, in turn, wish to come under the fold of the Federation. She forgot that the Captain had a basis in faith that she didn’t understand, namely in her. 

“Burnham?” Pike asked as he watched her blink away something and internally scold herself. “I drank some pretty awful stuff as a kid back home, stuff with more of an octane rating than a proof indicator. Not the first time I’ve stepped up to a bar on a previously uncontacted moon, either.”

She had to think fast! Pike was going to do it, and odds were in his favor that nothing would happen. These people knew their neighboring planets had been destroyed, they would not anger visitors by killing the leader of the huge starship lurking in the sky. They showed no indication they were malicious. They were extending an olive branch, per say, in the form of a drink. This was not out of the ordinary, so why was she so unsettled? Because it was _him_? 

“To our negotiations, may truth shine through.” The priestess said, the first words she spoke.

It was because of _that_ , Michael told herself as she felt Pike’s attention go back to the liquid filling the glass. Statements that could be local sayings, religious mantras or riddles. A culture steeped in truth would not lie, hence statements of this kind _served as a warning._ As the priestess poured, she saw a marking on the bottle that struck her as familiar. A marking from a civilization that was supposedly destroyed, from a neighboring planet that should not have had the space travel capacity to travel this far to flee it’s planet’s destruction. Her nerves settled, she finally saw it: _the truth_.

Pike was about to reach out and take the glass, but Burnham beat him to it. A hand shot out, quickly snatched the glass, and he turned to her in shock, just in time to see her knock back the shot in one swallow. Now it was his turn to feel the trepidation, because she wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t trying to save him from something. His voice cracked a little as he asked, “Thirsty, Commander?”

“May truth shine through.” Michael said to the surprised Veritians and tried to ignore the ‘what the fuck was that?’ look that her captain was giving her. “If you wish to see the truth, then you should see it through _my eyes_. How an officer sees their captain is more valid for an assessment of character than what _characters_ a captain might see.”

Pike was ready to bail, until he heard her inflection. Then he digested her words and looked to his host. His self-sacrificing officer just did something to save him from...what? Something that would compromise his codes? “Mind shining a little light on what’s going on? ”

“Your commander is loyal.” The representative said.

“You are deceitful.” Michael shot back. “Or did you plan to tell my Captain he was infected after he ingested the parasite or after you obtained the truth you could use against him?”

Pike looked between them and then to the bottle. Truth serum? No, _parasites?_ _What!_? “If that is your assessment, Commander Burnham, then these negotiations are over and your evaluation in sick bay awaits.”

“Please, sir.” She said and realized the power-move here was _truth_ . “The people here believe in truth, not just as a way of life but as a way of defense. The drink is an ancient ritual of a culture that was believed to have become extinct but has apparently integrated or infiltrated the moon, here. The larva we see in the bottle is a host to the microscopic parasites we do not see. Within the hour, depending on my metabolism, the parasites will see _through my eyes_. If that is what it takes to convince the people here to join the Federation, I am happy to show them Starfleet’s finest officer- you. I could not accept that you might have been infected, and thus compromised, however.”

It was said to the Veritian representative as she maintained eye contact with him, standing proud and with determination as only Michael Burnham could while she announced she was host to, “ _Eye worms_ ? Are you telling me the tequila has _spy parasites_ in it?”

“Yes.” She said as if that concept was not, in fact, making her queasy. She stood fast, determined as ever to see this through. It was part of their culture, she had to remember that. This was going to give her a greater understanding of this culture….through worms. “I will give you the truth you asked for, however you may not have our truth as a weapon to use against us.”

Now Pike was floating outside the realm of the conversation again. “Ok, we’re not staying. We’re going back to Discovery, _right now_ , and getting this out of your stomach or giving you a dose of ivermectin...or whatever we need to do to make you eye-worm free.”

“Sir.” She said, finally turning to him, looking at him. Afraid to look at him because she wasn’t sure how long it took for the worms to make their way to her eyes. Afraid they could interpret how she looked at him as more than just professional. “As a xenoanthropologist, I am perfectly prepared and willing to participate in this ritual as long as they are not compromising my captain, and Starfleet in the process. I do not have to have access to classified information or a working starship in order to do my duty right now. My duty, however, is to expand our knowledge of the people out in the galaxy, embrace their ways and welcome them into the protection and unity of the Federation.”

“ _Eye worms_ ?” He used his ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ voice way too much while in command of the _Discovery_. _Way_ too much. It wasn’t because of what they encountered, it was the acceptance in which everyone ingested or injected it. _Fucking scientists_. 

“Organic material I am sure can be easily eliminated from my system, however we have to have faith in our hosts that they mean no harm to us and are only trying to protect themselves.” She said and softened, realizing she sounded like she was lecturing her commanding officer in an attempt to justify her impulsive move. That was _exactly_ what she was doing, and they both knew it, but at least she could sound remorseful about it. “See it from their perspective, sir.”

“You _literally_ are.” Pike reminded her and she gave a little tilt of her head and semi-shrug to remind him that he really had very little say in this. Theme of the day, apparently. He turned to his host who was actually pleased with this outcome. “Well, if the commander is willing to play host to some invasive species to open the doors for negotiations, I hope you’ll be so kind as to assure me that this will not cause permanent damage or put her life at risk on everyone’s quest for enlightenment?”

“We are honored to have you pass through the temple and into our village as our guest now. The parasites will only last for a cycle.”

“18 hours, sir.” Michael stated, reminding him that it was less than a day. Reminding herself it was less than a day.

“Alright.” Pike said, grudgingly. He tried to stand up straight and look commanding, but his stomach was in knots. He wasn’t even the one who drank worm juice. “Then what? What happens to the worms?”

“They are cried out.” Michael said, using her context clues. The images on the priestess robe were an illustration of the ritual. The damned ceremonial robe was a pictorial map of the process. And she missed it. It was right in front of her eyes.

The priestess was impressed. “Yes. They migrate from the back of the eye to the front and will ride the tears out of the body. Any species will wipe them away, either onto a cloth or onto a surface. Then they’ll be ready to be retrieved.”

“We welcome you to stay with us.” The Veritian representative said. “See our planet, see our people.”

“What happens if we leave?” Pike asked. He wanted to ask if those views of the moon that they were giving them would be destroyed when they left. If opening themselves up to the vulnerability of guests was done because they were confident information would not leave with them because the worms would eat it. But no, diplomacy said he must be tactful. “Surely it’s hard to retrieve wet tissues from a spaceship at warp. If you were interested in gathering information, how would you get the worms back?”

“If they are removed from the atmosphere they will cause irritations.” The priestess replied. “Pain. Blindness.”

“That is what I like to call _a hostage situation_.” Pike replied. 

“It’s what we call defensive tactics. We do not have your weapons, your battleships. What we have is nature, truth and a moon that has been a sanctuary for all the species on neighboring planets who have lost their worlds to visitors _like you._ ” The Veritian replied. “Those who come in peace but only speak lies.”

“Then let’s take the cycle to discuss joining the Federation where the protection of Starfleet and it’s ships would be on your side.” Pike hated himself for how easy it was for him to stay on mission when he wanted to walk out and get Michael medical attention ASAP. But those were his personal feelings and she acted as an officer of Starfleet. A damned good one. “However you’ll be signing an agreement to never use this eye worm concoction on another Starfleet officer again, if you join us.”

“I knew what I was doing sir, I gave my consent.” Michael assured him. Assured all of them. Reminded herself.

“Not everyone is as lucky as I am to have you, Burnham.” Pike said and looked over at her and quirked a smile.

It was words and a half-smile that made her flush a little, sending a little bit of warmth up her neck and to her face. It was a feeling that was not very compatible with the gut-churning panic growing in her stomach as she considered what she just drank. She hoped the information collecting travelers in her body could only see things and not collect more data, like heart rate. Pike didn’t mean it as any more than a compliment with the undertones of ‘we’re talking about this later I don’t care what is watching’, however it also gave these people a view of a man who they should want on their side. This was worth mild mental discomfort for less than a day. 

“Please, join us.” The priestess said. “I will show you our temple and then we will descend to the village.”

“I will need to step outside and contact my ship to let them know of the developments.” Pike said with a warm smile. “Perhaps, as a token of good faith, I could send them a sample of what my commander just drank so I can put my fears for her safety at bay.”

“The bottle is yours.” The Priestess put the cork back in and made a show of presenting it to the captain.

“Thank you.” Pike said, as if it was a prize tonic and not something potentially toxic. “Burnham, let’s report back to Discovery and have them send down a bottle from my private stash for these folks.”

“Sir.” She said knowing that the smile he was giving her said ‘I really want to send you to get it so you can get checked out but I can’t because you’ll probably go blind and what the hell were you thinking?!?’. However they were walked to the doors and allowed outside, escorted by their hosts and he thankfully did not have an opportunity to verbalize that as Commander Nhan was glaring at them when they appeared. Apparently she was not happy about being left with their gear and Pike's reassuring wave of 'we'll be fine'.

  
  


* * *

After hours of meeting the entire Veritian council, touring the temple, and walking through the village in the cave network on the moon, the Priestess escorted Michael and her captain to a small chamber. It was a room at the end of a hall, with one bed and a small alcove. It was a strategically bad idea, allowing themselves to be drawn down into a cave system where Discovery could not even detect signs past the surface; they could not be beamed out, they could not communicate and they were backed into a corner. This was a textbook terrible situation, and she forced Pike into it by drinking worms that would steal her vision if she dared leave the moon. Overall, not the away mission she was expecting. Pike, incredible as ever, was remaining chipper and joking with her to alleviate the horror of the situation. 

  
  


“They’re taking this ‘eyes are the windows to the soul’ thing way, way too literally and it’s gross.” Pike said and rubbed his own eyes as he thought about the predicament they were in. He had faith in Saru and the crew of Discovery to handle the situation if things went south, no matter how bad this was stacked against them, and made his priority Michael. Nhan could yell at him later. He wasn’t going to let Michael rake herself over the coals for this, he’d walked into worse. “Michael, every week I check in on Stament’s lab praying I don’t open the door to find him snorting mold like cocaine off the coolant shrouds with Tilly, and now I have to worry about you doing shots with aliens and coming home with a parasite load.”

“Well, I actually started with Staments and Tilly when I first came aboard Discovery.” Michael replied, keeping things light because he didn’t need to be burdened with trying to keep up her morale. 

“That explains _a lot._ ” Chris said and turned to look at her. “For geniuses you really should understand that your body isn’t the free space on the board for ‘experiment with new critter I found in space’ bingo card.”

“It’s honestly a lot less paperwork than requesting opening an experiment.” She shot back.

“Ugh., I don’t need to hear this right now. Can the spy-parasites hear us as well or do they read lips? Honestly at this point I don’t care if the Veritians know how readily my people are up for getting _high_ on science. Dropping naughty scientists off for a weekend on Truth Moon might just be what I need to keep people in line. Nothing else has worked.”

“I believe it’s just vision.” She said and suppressed a smile. Pike’s sense of humor was unparalleled, and infectious. Ugh, that was a wrong choice of words. “Discovery will get back to us on that soon.”

“We hope. Do you know how many times I had to say ‘Do not lick it! Do not lick the worm or drink the truth juice!’ after they beamed up the bottle and got all giddy about testing it?” Pike asked.

“I was there, sir.” She said with a smile. 

“I said it for your benefit too. I’m glad you’re amused by all this.” He said and continued to check out their accommodations. Nothing quite like ‘Home, Sweet Cave’ to really make a parasite-infestation-in-your-bridge-officer’s-eye situation feel gloomy as hell. 

“I’m slightly horrified by the reality of it, but intrigued by the rest. I am doing my best to not get sick.”

“Am I helping?” He asked, genuinely. 

“You are.” She admitted. His warmth and personality could chase the chill out of any room, even if it was a damp cave.

“Good, because I really want to reprimand you but all I can say is that next time you should just tell me. I can bullshit my way through negotiations without having my science officer take one for the team like that. Especially when it’s taking a _shot of a parasite load_.”

“They wanted to see what you were like because so many people come in the name of peace with false pretenses. So many people are not what they present themselves to be.” She explained herself and it sounded weak, but at least she wasn’t just coming out with ‘I got scared and thought you were going to drink it and you can not get mad because you threw yourself on a phaser, remember?’. 

So this was also about her. About a diplomat’s daughter or maybe Lorca's betrayal. Probably the latter. She empathized with these people because she had once been in their position. Michael probably hadn’t even realized that yet. Maybe a few hours sequestered in an alien cave would bring out more than a few truths. “But I am.”

“You’re so much more.” And _that_ sounded really...inappropriate. So much for not saying what she meant, and it was only the start of their stay together. Michael cleared her throat. She searched for something to say, anything in recent conversation she could ask for clarification on. “I am sorry if I denied you a chance to taste a new worm-infused liquor and add to your collection of colorful boasts about alcohol that didn’t kill you.”

“I’ll look forward to your report. Please include a very poetic description of the flavor profile or I’ll make you rewrite it.” Chris sat down and then smiled at her. “Or maybe I’ll just wait on Ensign Tilly’s report when she samples it herself and then grabs my ass _again_ while writing it off as ‘intoxication’ or ‘showing the enemy our greatest _ass_ ets’.”

“Wonderful we already have a reference for how it’s going to go.” She said and straightened up as she realized she was going to get an endless barrage of questions about all this from her roommate. Less about the worms and more about the ‘vacation’ on the moon to pass those worms. _Did you get X-ray vision and see through his clothes? Did you eye-bang him for ‘science purposes’ so those aliens could see what they are missing out on? Did you give those aliens a good look at his perfect ass? Because that is 1000% something anyone can get behind. What do you mean they only made you stay in the same room? What? *incoherent screaming* Oh my God! There was only one bed!?_

“Burnham?” Pike said as he watched her close her eyes and wince a little, like maybe she was getting a migraine. “Michael, we pull out of here pronto if you have even the slightest side effects.”

She opened her eyes to assure him she was fine. An eyeful of concerned Captain Pike looking at her like he was about to pick her up and carry her out of here. “I’m fine. I don’t have reference, however, for ‘ivermectin’.”

“Horse dewormer.” Pike shrugged. “I, mean, if there ever was a place and time for something to not be dewormer-resistant I guess it’s here and now.”

“And did you sample this as well as the tequila back home?” She asked as the concern still didn’t leave his eyes even if he was making casual conversation about horse medication.

“Not intentionally.” Pike said warmly. “Tango dragged me around the stall every damned time while I was trying to get that syringe in his mouth. It went everywhere.”

She made sure she gave the Veritian worms an eyeful of her Captain getting soft and nostalgic about his pets. This was the kind of man anyone should want on their side, even if his horse didn’t agree at times. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s not good for people.” He mused. “But that’s not going to stop me from mentioning it to Dr. Pollard when she checks you out to see the mortified reaction on her face.”

“And get you kicked out of sick bay?” She asked.

“Well, you do _see through me._ ” He said and then searched her face as she looked a little uncomfortable. “So are we going to keep pretending like you didn’t look like you were in pain just a minute ago and you suddenly have scientific curiosity about livestock care?”

“I would like to.” She admitted but knew he wouldn’t drop it. 

“I’d prefer some assurance you’re not going to have an aneurysm or have your eyeballs fall out.” Pike said. “Please.”

“I was…” She cleared her throat as he raised his eyebrows in anticipation of hearing an explanation. “My internal Tilly was screaming with joy at having her various works of fiction become a reality.”

“Oh.” He laughed and slapped his hand on the bed. “She really does have a thing about that bed-sharing trope. That and sex pollen, but that seems to be a departmental kink.”

Michael took a beat to let that register. Did that mean…

Pike smiled at her. “Yeah, I make it my business to know about my ship and my people. The view of how healthy the beating heart of a ship is in it’s stories. Sometimes it’s gossip, other times it’s tentacle porn. Sometimes it’s a StarFleetSims game with a bunch of lewd hacks. I like to get ahead of all that before I get a psychological report on my people. Personally I’d rather see the happy stories with some explorative roles and tropes than the fact that Stament's husband murdered Sim Lorca by removing ladders from the fission water heater and then trapped his ghost in the septic system. All health coping mechanisms Kat assures me. And honestly, Tilly is one hell of a writer.”

Michael made a squeak when she realized her mouth was hanging open. Captain ‘Hot piece of ass’’ Pike knew her roommate was writing stories about him? Stories that often included _her_? Pikeal Porn, as Tilly so proudly called it. Because that’s what friends do with their emotionally repressed, Vulcan raised, mutineer roommates--show them they are worthy of love 10,000 words at a time. In every genre. In every position. Always gratifying. With beautiful and noble Captain Pike. “I did not encourage or ask her to...”

“I _have_ met Ensign Tilly, remember?” He said with a wink. “I know.”

“Those were _not_ the thoughts going through my head.” She choked out. “I was thinking about the millions of questions she was going to hammer me with.”

“Calm down, Burnham. This happens on every ship. Although you are handling it surprisingly worse than your brother who found it, and I quote, 'fascinating'. Talk about a shitshow. I don’t think I got a solid day's work out of anyone for three weeks while they were writing and reading and trying to one up each other just to see if they could crack him.”

She blinked at him. “Spock? _Read_ stories people wrote about _him_?”

“He took over the lead for most written characters on our ship--from me. Apparently I’m ‘vanilla and he’s way more spicy’, direct quote from Number One.” He smirked. “If you suddenly feel like giving these Veritians something to look at, I’ll send you the files.”

“That’s _my brother_.” She said, appalled.

He started laughing and she finally relaxed. “See, things could be worse than eye worms.”

“Thank you for that horrifying realization.” She said and wondered if he actually knew anything about Vulcan mating rituals. 

“You’re welcome.” He said and stood up to look around their room more and determine how he was going to make these arrangements work. “So, I’ll take the floor and you take the bed. Not sure how we handle the bathroom with no door other than leaving the cave. I’m not sure how this bathroom works either.”

“Now you’re changing the subject.” She said as he moved around the small room and checked it out. 

“Oh?” He asked. “You really want to continue talking about _Enterprise_ 's erotica instead of the alien outhouse in our hotel room?”

“I’m curious how you can accept that people are writing stories about you in very explicit situations and with people you work with.” She said, _finally_ coming around to being a decent anthropologist. 

“It’s not really _me_ .” He said with a shrug as he checked out the alcove which he thought was the bathroom. He peered into the hole in the rock, the hole he thought was the toilet, and a breeze hit his face. Maybe that wasn’t a toilet? “Sure names and some situations are used, but it’s not me. Just like Tilly is writing a version of you that she knows isn’t _you_. People want better for others. Beneath all the sometimes bizarre sex is a hope for a connection. A happy ending. A fix-it on a mission gone wrong. It’s an escape. Otherwise we’d all go crazy working day in and day out on a starship in the middle of space without something to ground us. Creativity, imagination, stories, are so much a part of humanity that I would never stifle anyone’s outlet for that."

“Lorca was more inclined to appreciate creativity in the form of scientific breakthroughs that benefitted Discovery than encouraging hobbies that provided distractions. ” She explained.

“I got that from his cold and unapproachable ready room.” He gave up on making sense of the ‘bathroom’ and decided it best if they didn’t drink, eat or use the facilities while on this moon. 

“Which is a long way from approaching you with a story about sex pollen.” She commented, drawn in by his surprising responses.

“Seriously, the spore and tardigrade stuff is really _not_ that far off. I’ve accidentally read ‘orgasms’ a few times when Staments wrote ‘organisms’ in his reports because it was _that_ enthusiastic of a description. ” Chris said and looked at the light fixture to see what they were using for flame. 

She smiled at him and wondered if she should give in and read what Tilly wrote with that theory in mind. Her friend was trying to push her to open herself up to relationships and it wasn't like she didn’t already say what she was thinking. Reading her stories might help her understand her friend better. If it was just a story, she could move past how weird it was that she was the protagonist.

“Number One actually wrote me a story once.” He said, thoughtfully. The flame was some kind of self contained gel. He’d keep an eye on that, if the fire went out then oxygen was running low. Something to watch for in caves. “A western.”

“So she gave you fictional horses?” Michael asked, Pike had gone on some tangents about horses before, before trying to dose her with ivermectin. All she had to do was look a moment too long at a Frederick Remington statue in his ready room and he lit up and started to ramble about his horses. Not that she had any complaints about that. 

“Yes. Hell, my crew has even given me some cute little horse farm simulator games, for my birthday. Never let your crew find out your birthday. Captain’s advice #1.” He said with a smile remembering all the horse gifts they gave him, mostly computer games. It was sweet, it was a way to give him a taste of home that he truly missed and gave up for this career. 

"Was the western story an interactive computer game?". She asked, impressed at the lengths the Enterprise went for their captain. Everyone loved him. 

  
  


“They’re working on it, I’m sure. Una's story was this epic saga, character driven and gritty. Started off about a guy building the transcontinental railroad and then she added backstory and sequels and integrated historical figures and...it was less about horses and me and more about some guy with my body with a beard and long hair shooting a ton of people and eventually sailing to China. She wrote it for four years. Most popular fic on Enterprise. Hope she’ll share it beyond the ship someday. Quite the adventure.”

“That’s impressive.” Michael said, honestly. She didn't realize there was more to this than written porn.

“It is.” He said and sat down on the chair again. “Sometimes all we are is inspiration and honestly that’s a pretty great thing. To be the reason someone creates something, to create some story out of thin air that didn’t exist before. To bring along people on a journey and into this world you created in your head, it's incredible. Don’t get me wrong, what we do as Starfleet is amazing, but creating something and sharing it like a story. That’s a treasure. Stories...last longer than lifetimes.”

As someone who studied culture and history, his words were making her heart beat faster than anything that Tilly had read out loud to her. He understood, he verbalized her passion in ways she never could. “My mother used to read us Alice in Wonderland. It was an escape from the harsh reality of Vulcan where I was constantly reminded I didn’t belong. Where Spock was constantly reminded he was not truly Vulcan either. It was our escape. I treasure that story and the comfort it gave me in my darkest moments.”

“A story, crafted from one man’s imagination that has made a lasting impression on so many.” Pike said and filed away a discussion on Lewis Carroll for some other time. Maybe in a few hours. “So, yeah, I’m absolutely honored if my crew finds something in me that sparks some new ideas and brings a little something to the world. Now Admiral Cornwell, she eats it up on another level entirely. But, that’s just further proof everyone gets something different from fiction.”

“So you understand why I so readily took a potion that allowed these people, who have so seldom seen a righteous species, to see you?” She asked and he seemed caught off guard by that. “Though my eyes. Through the looking glass.”

She pointed to her eyes. A woman who _actually_ traveled through the mirror to another universe and lived that story, thought that _he_ was the person who defied logic? Or that he was some kind of a dream? He stopped questioning that and just accepted it was a phrase, he wasn’t the one who got wrapped up in stuff like that. He genuinely just liked a story for what it was and right now their story was about how he was something he was not. “I think you hold me on a pedestal I don’t deserve.”

“One you _do_ deserve. You’re humble and that is what makes you more worthy. An inspiration. Your story doesn't need to be fabricated.”

“Thank you.” He said and ran his hand through his hair feeling a little embarrassed by the genuine flattery. He stood up to walk that off. What the hell did he make of this?

“And exactly who thinks my brother of all people is spicy?” She asked, seeing she made him uncomfortable.

“Touch telepathy, stoicism and smart-assery is a real grand slam with the writer crowd.” He said.

“That’s actually...funny.” She had to laugh. Spock being popular was a stark contrast to what he experienced growing up.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Pike chuckled. “God help his future captains.”

She relaxed a little and considered what he was telling her. “I can see why you found Tilly’s stories rather refreshing.”

“I’m old enough the promise of a happy ending and life long commitment sounds like a great bedtime story. A hell of a fantasy." He admitted. “Tilly's stories are entertaining. I’m not surprised considering the things she has said to me, or you.”

“Are you asking me to read you one?” She asked and he looked over at her as if to ask ‘you memorized them’. “A story. Not hers.”

“If you recite _Alice in Wonderland_ to me I am going to have nightmares about the haunting image of the Cheshire Cat mocking me about heartworm medication. So, yeah, maybe I will pick something else off the bookshelf.” 

“I had to leave all my technology at the door, sir.” She reminded him and he gave her the most adorable pout as he picked up a pillow and tossed it on the floor. She kind of wanted to have _him_ read Tilly's fic aloud, though. In his voice. To watch his reaction, to hear his laughter at some of the comical lines that Tilly had written. Namely the title: _Ride him hard and put him away wet_. Her friend was just so damned bold. 

“Look, we need to be on a first name basis at this point. We just talked about your roommate's porn stash, porn that she wrote about us. I’m a little weirded out if we don’t at least pretend this is a casual conversation. Please, I beg you, call me Chris.”

Michael nodded. That made sense. “Are you seriously going to sleep on the floor, Chris?”

“I am. Certain boundaries I won’t cross. This has to be weird enough for you.”

“Then take the bed. I won’t be able to sleep. I’m scared to close my eyes.” She admitted.

“Then we don’t sleep.” He said and tossed the pillow back on the bed and took off his uniform jacket. 

“I think you’ve done your duty for today for keeping me distracted with conversation for this long.”

“Maybe I’m enjoying the conversation.” He replied and put his jacket on the small chair and sat down on the bed. “I’m sure the worms are.”

She glared at him and he smirked. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Oh please, you _just_ alluded to them.” He fell back into the bed and looked up at her as she relaxed and followed his lead to take her uniform jacket as well. “So, what do you want to talk about?”

She stood up and shrugged her jacket off and looked him over, laying back on the bed with his arms behind his head waiting on her to choose the next topic of conversation; staying with her because she had chosen to drink the worms, because he wouldn’t leave her here alone to deal with her decisions by herself. Because she just blurted out she was scared. He really was beautiful and she was trying to not look too hard at the outline of his muscles through that black shirt. “Would you have drank it if I told you what was in it?”

Chris hummed. “Well, like you mentioned, it would have compromised me as captain. Not only giving them access to classified information, our ship, my codes, but my _fanfiction archive username_.”

She smiled at him. He really just knew how to naturally keep things light and she envied that so much. Or perhaps she just appreciated it, because she didn’t think she could ever be that conversationally open and approachable. She appreciated it because his companionship right now was a blessing. “It also would have tethered you to this moon when we are on an important mission.”

“Well, yes. However, I’m not going to leave you here even if we get a signal, so don’t beat yourself up about that.”

“You can leave me. I made my decision.”

“No.” He said and then ruffled up his hair with his hand. “However, what you said about truth being their weapon and the fact they have a system in place to spy on people with their own eyes….makes me think they have information that could be vital to the Federation. They are at least an ally to have. They are also the people we, as Starfleet, aim to help and protect. So, yes, if those are the conditions of their negotiation process then I would have drank it.”

She wasn’t expecting that.

“Their loss. I have the better view.”

She froze and looked at him wide-eyed as she realized that meant _her_. 

“Sorry, too far.” He sat up and went to get off the bed. Too relaxed, too casual. Wrong place, wrong time. He ran a hand through his hair to smooth it out. He got too comfortable. 

“No. Thank you.” She said, seeing him uncomfortable immediately made her want to alleviate that. “I...don’t agree.”

“So I’ve heard. You’ve been quite the flatterer today.” He reminded her. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to acquire allies, get me promoted, or nominate me for sainthood.”

“I’ve been honest.”

“I haven’t been.” He admitted. “I keep hoping there might be something to Tilly’s obsession with us that isn’t just her trying to push you out of your Vulcan comfort zone. She really nailed it on the head calling me out for picking you for the away missions, the private council on every corner of the ship, our non verbal communication via just a look. If your admiration is purely professional and praise a statement of how you appreciate integrity then I’ll apologize now for reading into things.”

Michael stared at him, her mouth open and genuinely shocked. “You would want….”

Chris saw her at a loss for words, struggling to figure out what she could provide him. “You? Yes, Michael. Beautiful, brilliant, selfless, honorable, and incredible _you_.”

She swallowed hard. “Really?”

“Yes.” He said and then added. “Just not _here_ with a bunch of weird voyeur worms watching my every move. I’m thinking dinner? Maybe leave tequila off the menu for a while? No udon noodles either. My room. I’ll read you a bedtime story, if you insist, just not going to promise I can keep a straight face. Or preach about the proper use of horse tack and terms.”

“Why now?” Michael asked and twisted her uniform jacket in her hands. He stomach was doing flips. Was this real? Was she hallucinating because the worms were releasing something toxic? 

“Because after a night of staying up together and talking like this is some kind of sleepover, I’m going to have a really hard time _not_ being this close and casual with you. I’m genuinely enjoying this conversation and I love your perspective on things. I like making you smile. However, I would like to know, _now_ ,if this is _something_ so I can not misinterpret it and not mislead you.” 

“I thought you were just trying to keep me from thinking about what might be crawling around in my eyes.”

“I am a multitasker.” He said with a smile. “And there seems to be no way to stop one of us from mentioning that every ten minutes.”

She sat beside him on the bed, put her uniform jacket on her lap. She stared at it until she could focus on the texture of the fabric that made it up. She took a deep breath and said, “I wanted these people to see you through my eyes because I’ve never met anyone like you. I agree they probably have information we could utilize and I also understand why they would need to protect themselves like this. If we're being honest, I didn’t think before I took the glass. I acted out of fear that you would drink it. I was distracted by you and I didn’t do my duty. I could have analyzed the imagery on the Priestess’s robes to see it was spelled out for us what was going to happen. Especially while that Veritian representative kept talking over you in an attempt to anger you. All I saw was further proof of what a good man you are. A good captain. I am so impressed with you. I had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right but I blamed myself for being emotional, allowing feelings to compromise me. Feelings about you.”

“And you’re really not sure how to classify any of it.”

“No.” She said and finally looked at him. He looked so soft, sweet and understanding. Asking nicely if this was a path they could take or if it should be taken off the map. “My brain was telling me something was wrong but my emotions clouded it all.”

“And what do you want to do about that?” He asked.

“You.” She replied, no hesitation. She obviously couldn't let this go until it ran its course, she'd never stop thinking about him until there wasn't anything to think about.

It was his turn to be caught off guard. “Well, damn, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Sorry.”

He laughed. “Don’t apologize, if I was expecting you to not be direct I have to admit I really don’t know you that well.”

“I don’t have relationships.” She said and looked away from him because to save herself the pain of betrayal and heartbreak, she tried to not admit that Ash was a relationship. That she was so blinded by emotion that she didn’t see….anything. That it hurt. 

“Well, then, we’re going to have a problem.” He said and she turned to look at him, stunned. In only the way Michael Burnham could; the most expressive and beautiful woman whose face was raw with emotion when she _was caught off guard_. The glimmers of how intense she could be, if she’d just allow the universe to see it. “I don’t think, well I know I can’t, just be stud service. I look at you, Michael, and I swear I am overwhelmed with a million ideas of things I’d love to share with you and none of them are just a fleeting connection.”

“That is the very definition of our relationship: _fleeting_.” She said to him, struggling with the swelling feeling in her chest. It was like her heart was going to burst, but she was poised to pop it with a pin; like a balloon before it could float away and get out of reach. “You are on loan to the Discovery. You’re going back to your ship when this mission is over.”

“Yeah, but _when_ isn’t definitive.” He said to her and she looked at him with that ‘bullshit’ head tilt that he couldn’t help but smile at. “Ok, yes. I’m going back to the Enterprise, but when? Eventually. Maybe never. The very definition of our jobs is that we don’t know where tomorrow will take us. Well, tomorrow I’d really like to take you to dinner and start this story, our story, there.”

“This story has already started.” She said and looked around the small room and then back to him. 

“Then I leave you to write the next chapter title and let me surprise you with the direction it takes.” He replied.

“ _How_ are you _real_?” She asked incredulously.

“Oddly enough the charm of being Starfleet’s poster boy ends with just being a picture on the wall to look at.” He winked. 

“Or in creative erotica.”

“Some people just need a poster.” He laughed as she realized what he was implying. “Most people, although dedicated to this job, are not wanting to be in one place forever. Space is often stagnant, space on a ship is close-quarters. The nature of our dangerous job is that people are scared of attachment, because losing people hurts. It reminds us of our mortality. Throughout time, people in day-to-day dangerous jobs have adapted the ‘there might not be tomorrow’ mentality and embraced the impulses. Jumped from bed to bed. Nothing tethering them other than some carnal release. Our bonds as family are strong, but even then we all do eventually leave the nest. I’m not going anywhere beyond Starfleet and it’s a lonely position to be in, but I accept that. What gets me is when I see you and think about spoiling the ever loving shit out of you because you don’t think you deserve anything.”

“I’m not exactly someone who needs _things_.”

“I’m not just talking about material things. I’m talking about dinner with all your favorite foods. Talking to you about _Alice in Wonderland_ and how you very much were Alice and went to another damned universe through a mirror. Or maybe taking the shuttle to an uncontacted moon to interact with truth-loving aliens who take advantage of the locals with parasite infested drinks.”

She looked at him wide-eyed. “ _Oh._ ”

“Yeah.” He said. “You were super excited to come down to this rock and I have been bullshitting reasons to spend time with you from the moment I set foot on Discovery. So, yeah, why not take a weekend jaunt down to the local temple and end up spending all our time in our hotel room because someone didn’t listen to the travel agent about not drinking the water.”

“Were you ever going to say something?”

“Michael, I have _not_ shut up for the past _two hours_.” He laughed. “Are you sure those worms didn’t migrate to your ears?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, mocking annoyance. “I mean, if this mission didn’t go the way it did….would you have said anything?”

“I had a million scenarios in my head about how I would say something, but none would ever happen because I didn’t want to pressure you. I’m your captain, I can’t step over that line.” He admitted and she looked confused.

“Then why did you?” She asked. “What changed here? Worms?”

“I hoped we’d have an inside joke, but why the hell did it have to be _eye worms_?” He huffed and she smiled, a smile that said ‘too late-this is our thing’. “Actually, it was. You got distracted in the temple and that’s not like you. You talked about sphere data all the way from the bridge to the planet surface, talking about the planets that used to be here and now are destroyed. You were so excited, in that scientist way, and didn’t even bat an eye when they asked for our comms and tech to be left at the door. Then we get in the temple and you’re everywhere _but here_. You were distracted.”

“You noticed.” She said and his eyebrow quirked. “Of course you noticed. You see everything.”

“It was _me_ and I put you off your game. I thought maybe being isolated and alone with me was making my advances come to light, making it awkward.” He said. “Especially in a church.”

“You think I _didn’t_ want to be here _with you_?” She asked. “That was why you thought I was distracted?”

“Something changed.” He said. “I wish I could write off your willingness to just ingest foreign substances as a way to abort the mission, but that’s just how you Discovery kids roll. It wasn't the Veritians. It wasn't the danger. It had to be me.”

She watched him look away and start talking with his hands. He thought she was upset because he was making her feel weird being alone with her? That was the furthest from reality, she was tripping over herself feeling too much.

“I had to clear the air because it’s just worms this time, but it could have been something worse. You, not thinking, because of some pressure I was putting on you…” Chris’s words were on his tongue as Michael crashed into him, her lips on his and her hand going to his neck to stop him from pulling away. 

“You distract me, but because I could not stop being impressed with your every move. Your every word. I studied _you_ instead of the people here.” 

He reached up and stroked her cheek. “Ok, as much as it kills me to admonish you for that impulsive kiss, I am _not_ into people watching.”

“I’m…” She went to pull back but his hand was soft on her cheek and kept her in place.

“Just _here and now_. That’s all. Only because of the worms.” He said, his eyes intensely looking into hers to convey that this was actually fabulous. “So, dinner?”

“Yes.”

“OK.” He said with a warm smile and stood up. He walked it off, took a minute to clear the air and he struggled to come up with a new topic of conversation. “Do you think they took my gift bottle of Tequila and are getting drunk off their asses right now, or did I just kill an entire alien race by giving them something that’s going to literally burn as it goes down and destroy their digestive systems?” 

She turned to look at him and tried to not smile. “I’m quite sure the suspicious aliens are not going to be as eager to sample the exchanged bottle as I was.”

“Good. Next question.” He said and pointed to the bathroom. “Do you think that’s a toilet or an air vent, because I definitely drank more coffee than I should have prior to coming down to this planet and the answer may affect the outcome of these negotiations.”

“I think that’s the tear vessel that I’m supposed to cry my worms into. ” She said and he started laughing as the idea of peeing into the wrong place on an alien planet managed to crack his composure. Soon she was laughing with him, tears streaming down her face as she tried, and failed, to not be overcome with the infectious laughter.

Ten minutes later, the Priestess came to their room and informed them they were free to go.

* * *

“Oh my God, _there was only one bed_?” Tilly squeaked.

“And no bathroom.” Chris chirped as he waited for Michael to be cleared by Dr. Pollard.

“And worms. _In my eyes_.” Michael tried to not smile at him because she was feeling the pressure of starting something with her Captain now that they were back on the ship. He saw it. Tilly was, thankfully, more interested in the story. 

“Whatever. Good Tequila will fuck you up like that.” Tilly said and then squeezed her friends hands. “But tell me more about your cave-dwelling, bed-sharing, holiday on Truth Moon.”

_‘With Captain Sexy_ ’ was the unspoken words but Tilly’s eyes were saying it loud and clear. Michael saw Chris was amused, knowing what was going through Tilly’s head. “It was cut short as the captain made me laugh and I cried out my worms before the set time. Negotiations may have stalled because they didn’t get enough evidence to determine we are worth dealing with.”

“Oh, so this is _my_ fault?” Chris scoffed. 

“ _You_ wanted to pee in a scared tear chamber.” She reminded him, maintaining a straight face. Tilly sat open-mouthed next to the bed, head snapping back and forth between them.

“I see. The old ‘don’t make me turn this shuttle around! You should have peed at the rest stop when you had the chance’ road trip lecture.” He rolled his eyes.

Tilly squeaked. Oh my God, these two were _playful_ now! Eye-banging and playful, _at the same time!_ “Are there transcripts available after the Veritian’s squeeze the tears of truth out of their retrieved worms? Do they crush them into a papyrus scroll thing or make a smoothie? How are they reading the worms and how do I get on the list to see this movie?”

“It’s probably a silent film.” Chris informed her.

“Oh God, I just pictured what you’d look like in a black and white silent film and I think I might need medical attention now.” Tilly said and fanned herself with her hand. 

“When I’m done clearing her.” Dr. Pollard replied to Tilly and tapped on her tablet. “Let’s talk about the worms.”

“I suggested Ivermectin but _someone_ said that was only a horse medication.” Chris said and smirked as Michael pursed her lips to try to not laugh. 

Tilly wanted to cry. They had inside jokes! Weird agricultural jokes, but the dimples on that man! And the way Michael’s eyes shone with a threat to stop being so fucking charming and playful in front of the roommate who was definitely going to have her heart explode with joy soon. Oh my god and _there was only one bed_!!!

Dr. Pollard raised her eyebrows. “Wow, I am impressed, captain. Ivermectin is used to treat loiasis, but that is not the same parasite species that the commander ingested.”

Chris raised his eyebrows, in shock that his suggestion was valid and smired in response to Michael’s amused smile. “Oh, I am definitely going to mark this down in my Captain’s log as the day my horse knowledge proved to be useful on a mission.”

“ _Oh_? What other horseplay did you two get into?” Tilly asked and gave him a look that said ‘I saw that smirk, I see her smile, I see _you_ ’. 

“Perhaps you can skip drinks next time.” Pollard said curtly and turned away. “No signs of the parasite remain, you are free to go.”

“Go and read up on what the crew has dreamt up in our absence.” Chris said and locked eyes with Tilly who read them loud and clear from the moment they stepped off the transporter. “Take a few days off. Get some rest. I’ll let you know when results come back from the moon about what the Veritian’s find. ”

Michael watched Tilly’s head of curls bounce as she looked between them. Pike walked away, graciously giving her time by herself to deal with Tilly. There was absolutely nothing in the way that the Captain said that to make Tilly light up like that, however... 

“Tell me there are _more_ than _just tears_ they are going to be pulling samples off of that _one bed_.” Tilly said and grabbed Michael’s arm, digging her fingernails in. 

“Tilly!” Michael gasped. 

“No! Of course not! Fine. Not into the voyeur worms, I get that. However, they’re gone and you’re back on the ship. I will lock you out of our room if you do not ‘debrief’ on whatever happened on this mission by going back with him to his room, taking off his briefs and getting no rest whatsoever.” Tilly said. “This is the best story I have ever heard in my life and if you do not take him up on whatever he is offering, I will keep you up all night writing about what you _could_ be doing. Do you understand me?”

“He asked me to dinner.” Michael whispered.

“There is _way more_ than dinner on that plate and you need to get it. _Now._ Before you talk yourself out of it. Unless you already got some on planet Truth or Dare?”

“Tilly we just talked.” Michael assured her but then she paused when she thought about that kiss and Tilly gasped. “I may have also kissed him.”. 

“You two have been driving me insane! From the minute he walked on this ship you were eye banging him and now alien eye worms got to eye bang him and I am begging you to please _bang him_.”

“I got us into this by being emotionally compromised…” Michael’s mouth was covered by Tilly’s whole hand.

“He’s amazing. He’s perfect for you. He stayed by your side when you had a weird parasite infestation. Men like that _do not_ come on your starship every day. And he wants you, bad. Please, _let it happen_. I want you to be happy, you both deserve that. I deserve the details, later. Possibly in a weird parasite POV silent film. Do you think the Veritians are using it as porn?”

“OK.” Michael said when Tilly took her hand away. “I do think I would prefer his company right now to wherever this conversation is going.”

“Good! Do _not_ change clothes, do _not_ collect your data, do _not_ do anything but GO to him. _Right now_.”

Before she could say anything, Tilly yanked her off the bed and was pushing her to the door. She stumbled forward, using the momentum from Tilly’s surprisingly strong shove, and left Sick Bay. She walked out of the room and into the hall and immediately saw Pike, no Chris, was waiting on her with a tablet in his hand.

“I realized we didn’t eat while we were down there.” He replied. “You know, with the threat of parasites and all.”

“Are you on the menu?” She asked, emboldened by Tilly because her friend really did write some good dialogue. Then she realized that sounded...like she was calling him a parasite. “ _Shit._ ”

”Let’s get out of this hall and restart this conversation.” He smiled, trying not to laugh.

“You find the awkward endearing.”

“I do.” He said. “As evident from the last couple hours we spent on that moon. However, I know this is probably awkward to be leaving sickbay together, so I grabbed some random tablet off the counter in the infirmary to make it look like we’re talking about something else. Unfortunately I interrupted someone playing StarfleetSims. I did not realize tardigrades could be used like that.”

“Did the Veritians tell you what they thought of the worm surveillance?” She asked, bringing conversation back to something work related for the benefit of people milling in the halls. 

“They did. Commander Nhan waited for word from them and they got back to her relatively quickly.” He said. “That’s what my story was going to be about why I was hanging out in the hall waiting for you to get out of the nurses office like a high school kid. However, it made no sense as to why I wouldn’t go back into the room and tell you while your roommate was talking to you. So, Commander Burnham, the mission was a success. The Priestess was pleased with what she saw and recommended the Veritians open negotiations with us. Good job.”

“So you’re going back down there?” She asked, smiling because he was fun to talk with. Smiling because he was smiling. Smiling because she very much wanted him.

“I will, tomorrow.” He said. “Want to come?”

“So now that we’re dating you’re you going to ask instead of ordering me to go on away missions with you?”

“Technically we have not started dating until you come back for a second date after you have your way with me today.” He said, teasing.

“You sound like you might have some unrealistic expectations based upon some stories you may have read."

“I have ideas of my own, thank you, and experience to back it up. But I’m afraid you’re going to start worrying about all the stories people are telling when all that matters is what we want to tell.”

“And what do we want to tell people, Captain?”

“I adore that you think that everyone doesn't already know.” He said and grinned. “And don’t make me tell you again to stop calling me 'Captain' off duty.”

“That sounded authoritative, Chris.”

“Well, I acknowledge that you’re bossy and that will probably be the last decision I get to make for the rest of the night.” He said. 

“Thank you for this.” She said as they waited for the turbolift. He lifted his eyebrows. “The calming conversation that comes so easy to you. It makes it easier not worrying so much about tomorrow.”

“You _should_ worry about tomorrow. Those Veritians still have my Tequila and I'm worried it might kill them."

"Someone told me to stop worrying about tomorrow and embrace today."

They entered the turbolift and as soon as the doors closed she pulled him down to her and kissed him. He pulled her close and kissed her back, happy she was embracing him of all things. Hoping this wasn't just another impulsive move.

She let go as the turbolift slowed to his floor. They looked at each other , silently agreeing they had talked enough today. The doors opened , they stepped out into an empty hall and both quickened their pace to his room. Michael felt alive, felt like this was right. Felt like Chris was feeling it too from how he seemed to be walking faster than normal. He opened his door and she followed him in, falling into him as soon as his door closed and he turned back to her. A more heated kiss, her hands clenched in his uniform, his arm around her and his hand on her face holding her head as he kissed her harder. 

Chris was being shoved back into his couch and he knew if she got him that far she'd knock him over the armrest and pin him down. He leaned forward a little to stop her shove and picked her up with one arm. She leapt up and wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his neck. She drew back from her hungry kiss and sucked his lip as she pulled away. He carried her to the bedroom as she started to kiss the corner of his mouth and his cheek, her hand running up into his hair. 

Michael clung to him and used her lips to explore more of his perfect face. He hadn't had a chance to shave for the day, so stumble covered his usually smooth cheeks. She dragged her lips across it, against the grain, feeling the rough hairs abrade her soft lips, breathing hot air against him as he set her down on the bed and fell into her.

He kissed her neck as soon as he got her pressed against the mattress. Her arms were still locked around his neck, fingers tugging at his hair and her fluctuating breaths blowing over his face and he wanted more. A few kisses lower and he was at her collar and a long breath of air was drawn in as he found a spot that was neglected. 

Michael wanted to get close to his ear to whisper, but his kiss on her neck and his position over her made it all come out in a husky demand. "Take off your clothes."

"Bossy.". He mumbled and she tugged on his hair, harder.

"It's the logical step, faster than if I do it." She said and he huffed and stood up.

"I can't argue with that". He said as he watched her take off her jacket and toss it aside and unbutton her pants. He realized this was a competition now, whoever got naked first would have the high ground and harass and distract the other one. Well...shit.

Michael watched him fumble with his jacket, relishing the fact that she was the one distracting him. She threw her shirt on the floor. Now she was down to underwear and he was getting tangled up in his sleeves trying to catch up. Maybe it was a little payback for how much he had flustered her by just the simple act of being in her vicinity while doing his job in that temple.

"You are enjoying this." He said as he watched her sit on his bed, unclothed enough to make him feel his heart pound a little harder and make _everything_ much harder.

"I'm enjoying the show." She said. 

He finally got his uniform jacket off and tossed it on the chair. "You're enjoying being in charge."

"That too."

He got his shoes off, dropped his pants and kicked them away and then went back to her clad in his black undershirt and boxer briefs. He caught his breath as she leaned forward and ran her hands over his chest, then down his abdomen and grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. He helped her get it off by ducking out of it and pulling his arms out of the sleeves. Then he kissed her when she threw the shirt aside.

"You're beautiful." She said and ran her hands over his face and chest.

"I stand firm in my belief that I have the better view." He said and crawled on the bed as he kissed her, pushing her back down so he could cover her body in kisses and appropriately worship her. "And stop stealing my lines."

Michael's notion that she would be in control evaporated immediately as Chris began to kiss her collarbone while a hand ran along her side. He propped himself up on the bed with one arm, giving her a splendid view of his back and shoulders as his kisses trailed lower. Stubbled cheeks brushed against her breasts as he kissed her sternum. Each kiss seemed so deliberate and pre-planned, like he had a map in his head of places on her body he wanted to visit with his lips. His hand ran up and down her side, thumb dragging along to just flick the bottom of her bra and the string of her panties with each run. Her breath hitched with each kiss and then he looked up at her with those stunning blue eyes while his chin rested against the center of her bra. She watched him kiss her, felt his hand grip her hip and she swallowed hard. 

He planned to keep going, move on to kiss her belly and tease lower, but she lifted herself up and unclasped her bra and he had to get out of her way as she tossed it aside. Before he could gawk at her, she laid back down and pulled his head back down to her breasts and he did not hesitate to move his mouth to something more sensitive.

Michael trembled as he put his whole mouth on her nipple, sucking and dragging it between his teeth. His hand ran up from her hip, ran up under her breast and then over it. Thumb flicking her nipple as his tongue licked over the other one. She pushed back into the mattress and tugged on his hair. Her leg ran up his body until she was able to hook it over his ass and pull his lower body against her as well. She closed her eyes and enjoyed it, his attention, the sounds he made, the rushed breaths as he moved from one breast to the other. His hand went back down her side taking a hold of her leg. Fingers splayed over her thigh, fingernails digging him as he acted like he simply could not get enough of her body.

Chris sucked and nipped at her and she went from pushing his head down and tugging his hair to petting his head. Enjoying the attention. He wanted more though, he wanted her squirming with want and pleading for more. He wanted to make her feel like she was going to lose control and not just get pet. He ran his hand over her thigh, down past ticklish skin on the inside of her leg that got a squeeze of protest, and back up to tug off her underwear.

She allowed her leg to fall away to give him access he was requesting, not anticipating him to pull away and sit up, not anticipating watching him pull off her panties and throw them aside. Not anticipating him crashing back down to kiss her lips as his hand went between her legs and caused her to squeak and clench down on him. She gasped into his mouth as he kissed her.

"Need my hand back." He mumbled. "Promise you'll be happy with the results."

She unclenched a little and he immediately had his hand against her, quickly slipped a finger between her folds and caused her to reflexively clamp down on him again. She let go and hooked her leg over his ass again. "Sorry...I..."

"No apologies." He whispered. "Tell me if you don't like or want it."

"It's good.". She said as his finger slid down and back, making her aware of how wet she was. She got a kiss and he looked into her eyes as fingers gently stroked her and moved fluids where he wanted them. Forward, towards…

He felt her twitch as he gently worked her clit. He watched her face, eyes on her as she looked overwhelmed by how easily he made her feel good. He kissed her lightly on the lips, wanting this slow and sensual first time to pave the way to more later. He wanted her to look at him as he coaxed her body into reacting how they both wanted it to, wanted her to see he took delight in her in every way. 

His blue eyes shined with adoration and were not clouded over with lust. The lust and arousal was there, evident by his dilated pupils, however he was not in a rush; he was methodical in his moves to get every nerve endings to spark under his finger, building her up slowly and letting her enjoy his touch. This was not how she had sex before. It was always a rush, a drive to climax as fast as possible. Need had to be met and it was met with friction. His eyes were focused on her reactions; she knew this was his choice because he did not want her questioning why he had her in his bed. Then he smirked at her and the next second he slid down and slipped a finger inside her. His thumb rubbed her clit now as he worked her a little faster, perhaps reading her mind about the 'slow and sensual' and wanting to prove he could be 'fast and hard' too. 

Her fingers dug into him as he moved faster. He saw her bite her lip, listened to her breathing get irregular. He pushed another finger in and she gasped. He chose that moment to kiss her as she closed her eyes. Kiss her and then hover over her lips and whisper, "Want me to stop?"

Her eyes shot open and her fingers dug into his shoulder as his beautiful expressive eyes twinkled with amusement. Then his fingers took up a new action instead of thrusts and spread her wider, before pulling out and rolling up her lips and then back into her again. "Stop...teasing me."

"You go first." He said with a smile. "So, relax and let it happen. Come undone."

She didn't know how he could tell she was afraid to let go. She always held back a little, never wanted to be that vulnerable. Telling her partner she had reached the climax and moved on to the physical grind of it. Release of that variety was left to self-pleasure, where nobody could know. Chris knew. The man had his hand between her legs, fingers inside her, hand soaked in her juices that they could both smell, and she was still worried about letting go. 

He picked up a rhythm again and kissed her cheek, hissed her jaw and hummed as he hovered over her lips again. "No one here but you and me. You trust me, let go. Scare yourself. I'll be right here."

"Chris…" she said, a trembling voice saying his name. Saying his name to remind herself of how much she wanted _him_. In every aspect. And how much he wanted more than just today. She closed her eyes and concentrated on him movements. On his every move inside her. How this was Christopher Pike, the man she had watched and fallen a little in love with, now three fingers deep inside her asking her to let him please her. She opened her eyes and looked at him, soft blue beautiful eyes looking back telling her he would never let her fall. Inviting her to just get lost in him. Reminding her that this was real.

And she relaxed and let it all build into something more intense. Chris felt it, felt that something that made her body coil around him, made her mouth open and her brain forget now to speak, leaving only a growing 'ahhh' to gurgle out of her throat. He changed his pace. Faster, fingers slipping in and out, sliding up and around her clit, then plunging back into her and finally she clenched around him and whined. "Let go, for me. I want you Michael, the real you."

It was blindingly intense. She sounded like she was in pain, surprising herself with the sound of the incredible release. Release of everything. Her own restrictions around what she allowed herself to feel. The pure, full body climax that wracked her whole body. Helped by his voice, helped by his words, by his fingers and the safety he promised. And he pulled her close as she heaved against him, fingers working her still as she twitched in his arms. He was trying to keep her going while she was on the crest of the wave and it almost hurt, the pressure holding her above the crash of the wave against the rocks. And he knew exactly what he was doing and she actually whined because it hurt so good.

Chris said nothing more, just let it wash over her and held her close. Kept working at it while she rode through the orgasm. Body shaking in his arms, a look of bliss and confusion on her face. He kissed her temple and she looked at him like he turned her world upside down. Which for someone who had taken a trip to an evil mirror universe, was saying a lot. 

"I…" she watched his eyebrows raise as he waited on her to remember how to use words. "Have been doing sex wrong."

He snorted and took his hand back from between her legs, wiping it off on the sheets, as she reached up and stroked his cheek. " _That_ was just an appetizer."

She took his face in her hands and kissed him. " I need a second to gain full motor control back, but I want to explore your body."

"I'm all yours." He rolled over on his back and she flopped over on him as he did. He did this to her. Left her damned near numb and with a mind completely blank. And she was confused that she was even capable of it. He smiled at her as she began tracing his muscles with her finger, light touch at first that quickly grew stronger. He saw it in her eyes, the raw determination now to do the same thing to him. He welcomed it.

Michael straddled him, making sure she got a feel for how hard he was as she sat almost directly on his erection pressing against his black boxer briefs. He groaned and she smiled, leaning down to rub, kiss and trace the muscles on his chest while she figured out her next move. He knew her, he had studied her, but that should be no surprise as he was a damned Captain of the flagship. He would size up his friends and foes alike, profile them...understand their background and how that might affect how they worked. And she grew up on a planet that looked down on emotion, a culture with a mating ritual that was downright feral. It made sense, that he would expect her to tackle sex like it was an act and avoid the intimacy of it. Still, seeing that and wanting to make this their first act...made sure she didn’t hold back...she was overwhelmed with him. He was amazing and if there was anyone in this universe who she genuinely wanted to be intimate with, it was him. Right now however, she wanted to ride him into pure oblivion and make him feel as good as she felt.

Chris watched her think, collect herself, and enjoyed the attention as she rocked against his aching erection and leaned over to appreciate his body. She picked up the pace of her kisses and kneading of his muscles, whatever thoughts were bogging her down no longer an issue. She looked up at him with clear eyes, eyes that were completely focused on him. He blinked and took a deep breath, because there was no question that she was here with him now. No distractions. This wasn’t a task to be completed. There might just be a little competition though.

When she made the move to come with him to his room, Michael intended to ride him, she loved to be on top. It gave her control, it gave her detachment. It allowed her to use the body under her and not be vulnerable. But this was different. With Chris she wanted _him_ , wanted to be as close as they could be. Wanted him inside her, wanted to think about him with every move. “Fuck me.”

The way she said it sounded like an expression, like she had just had some self-actualization moment and not a request. 

“Fuck me.” It was more of an order now, and she looked down at him and made sure he saw it in her eyes that she wanted him in control again. 

He obeyed, flipping her over and immediately crashing his lips against hers. The hunger that met him back was intense. She pushed her body against him. Legs wrapping around him, hands roaming and dragging all over his back. He had to break off the kiss to get out of his briefs, but was quickly back on top of her.

She reveled in him. The way he reacted to her, the way their bodies ached for each other. The want was enhanced by _want for him_ and she wanted every second to be aware that she wasn’t having sex, she was feeling Chris. Everywhere. She reached down and grabbed his cock, hard and leaking, twitching in her hand. She tugged, indicating she was serious about wanting him _now_.

He pulled back, just enough to get a hand on himself as she attempted to pull him into position. He flicked fingers against her hand to tell her to let him handle this and her hand went out to his chest and raked fingers down his abs. He ran his swollen head up and down her extremely slick slit, and watched her eyes. She looked back at him and made it very clear she intended to keep her eyes on his through this. He shuddered, this was more than he anticipated.

She watched his eyes shine as she felt his cock head roll between her folds and then back to testing her entrance. She put her leg over his hip as he did it again, as she told herself that the feeling was being generated by _him_ and she felt a flutter in her chest start to build in anticipation of him stopping the travels and finally preparing to enter her. She stilled, wanting to keep her eyes open and tell her damned brain that the feeling of penetration, that little catch she had in her throat as another being entered her, wasn’t just anyone. It was Christopher fucking Pike and he wanted her. Chris wanted more than body, he wanted soul. And she wanted to give it to him.

“Ready?” He asked, seeing she was frozen in place, seeing her eyes begin to water as she was overwhelmed with emotion. He wasn’t sure what broke in her but he genuinely hoped it was the dam holding back the real Michael that had been repressed for so many years.

“Slow.” She said. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

He grunted as his cock throbbed. She could undo him too, with just words. She ran her hand up his face and didn’t blink, he smiled at her because there was no question that she was in this moment and nowhere else. He was poised at her entrance, his cock already wet from her, and he gave a very small thrust to press his head inside. He watched her, her mouth open, her eyes shine and her hand pet his face. Grounded. 

“More.”

This ‘slow’ thing was not going to last long. He felt it in how her fingers dragged across his cheek. He bent down to kiss her and backed out a little, thrusting a little deeper this time. His eyes locked on hers, as he placed a gentle kiss on her open mouth. Her hands went back into his hair and began to tug. 

“More.” She said and finally blinked, but only briefly. She spent so much of her life never connecting with anyone past the surface and this one man read her like a book. Read her story and wanted to read it back to her and show there was so much more depth to it. “All the way.”

“That’s not slow.” He teased and she almost pulled his hair out by the roots. 

And she made the most ridiculous sound she ever heard come from her mouth, as she hastily and out of breath replied, “Bury yourself in me.”

He made a whining noise, because this was more intimate, more erotic, more intense than he had had in a long time. _If ever_. And he set out wanting this to be about _her_ and now it was about _them_. He crashed down to her lips, kissing her as he thrusted hard and fast, wanting to capture her sounds in him as much as she wanted him in her. And it made him see stars, it made him meet her cries with his own. 

She yelled into him, yelled into that kiss that said he wanted to be as close to her in every way he could. She pulled his head down harder, put a hand on his ass and dug her nails in. She wanted to lock them in this moment and just feel it all. Feel how good he felt, how complete she felt, how lost she was in him. But she wanted more. As good as it was, he only made things better and now she was chasing that feeling. How much better could it be? And she knew he had more. She slapped his ass. “More.”

He broke off the kiss and smiled and gave her an incredulous look. “Did you just...”

She shoved into him, clenched her vaginal muscles around his cock inside her and watched his words vanish in his mouth. His mouth hung open and the crinkles of amusement made way to a shudder of pleasure. “Fuck me or I flip you over and ride you.”

He whimpered because she was like a barrage of _everything_. So he said nothing more and pulled out, almost fully, then slammed back into her. 

Michael let loose a full body gasp. He then began thrusting with a less aggressive rhythm, she arched into him and let every unhinged gasp and mewl escape from her mouth. Every sound that started in the vortex of her chest that housed her shameful emotions, came out and he reveled in it.

“Michael.” He panted as she thrashed under him and came undone. Over the edge of composure and fully submerged in pure, beautiful passion. He quickened his pace, knowing his own climax was on the brink and not wanting to back off on the assault of everything holding back the beautiful carnal noises she was allowing to spill out. 

She clawed at him as he pounded her, wanting more, uncontrolled and unashamed. She made noises she wasn’t trying to ignore, untethered emotion from her mouth and the slap of wet arousal from between her legs. He made sounds too, sounds that indicated he was also lost in this moment between them, even though he was trying so hard to maintain the eye contact she was. He winced, looked like he was going to start crying and she felt him feeling between them with a shaking hand, wanting to bring her over the edge with him. And she wanted that too. His thumb hit her clit and she squeaked, pressure building in her for a second time and he rubbed and thrusted and multi-tasked his way to pushing her over with him. She screamed and wrapped her legs around him, her body clamping down around him and finally, he yelled out with her.

They were entwined as they both convulsed and shook with the power of waves of ecstasy crashing around them. Clung to each other in the tempest of release, in that blinding good feeling and the body that brought it to the surface. Twitching, panting, softening, and collapsing into each other. Chris fell off to the side, flopping unceremoniously into his bed and pulling out of her in the process. All he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears and he had to blink away the tears in his eyes, he had to breathe with his mouth to get enough air. Then he pulled her over onto his chest, still numb, but having to hold her. She melted into him. They both twitched with the aftershocks of it.

Michael was shaken, she felt synapses firing and getting no response. It was like being on a heavily damaged ship, floating in space without air or computer controls….but with all the warmth in the word. Without fear, with a confidence that this was right. She wrapped her leg around him, pressed her head against his chest to listen to his heart and breathing, and his arms wrapped around her. And they laid there until their sweat evaporated and cooled their bodies enough to be chilled without blankets. She stirred and put her chin on his chest in order to look at him and _he was absolutely glowing._ A smile so warm and radiant, but his eyes shone like he was bashing in the warmth of her. “I don’t think you have to worry about me coming back tomorrow.”

“Oh?” He asked as she reached up and played with his lip with her finger. 

“I’ve never felt like I was in the right place, I never felt comfortable in my own skin. Yet here, with you, I feel right. I feel known. I feel _you_.”

“That is the best thing I have ever heard and this is honestly the best I have ever felt.” He pulled her finger into his mouth, playfully, and sucked on it. Just to see her surprise. Her eyes lit up, realizing this adventure had just begun. “I do feel like we should either take a shower or get some blankets though.”

“Can we shower together?”

“Only one shower.” He said and smoothed out the sheets on the bed with his hand. “Only one bed.”

“Only one you.” She said and kept drinking him in. How every part of his being made existence feel like it had meaning.

“My view is better.” He said as he tilted his head down and kissed her forehead. He could not wait to see their story unfold, but didn’t want to miss a second of it; the present a good place to be grounded.

Michael kissed him. A tender kiss, eyes that spoke volumes looking back at her. This felt right. This finally felt like her story, he felt like he was her story. She smiled and he met hers with a magnificent smile of his own. It felt like her soul sighed in contentment. “I’m glad we got rid of the worms, because if you showed them _that_ they would have never wanted to leave.”

He laughed and hugged her tight, kissed her forehead and said, “I liked you better when you were ‘raised on Vulcan and didn’t joke’.”

“Liar.” She said, recalling how he looked at her back then and how she had just been _blind_ to it. No more. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, he pulled over a blanket and covered them up. _The truth shines through_. Yes, indeed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  



End file.
